


Full-Service Bar

by LibidineTertius



Series: What You Want [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bondage, Clint Sees Better From a Distance But He's Not Bad Up Close, Gangbang, M/M, Objectification, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Subspace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-10-09 15:00:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17409041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LibidineTertius/pseuds/LibidineTertius
Summary: Tony didn't forget what Clint saidhewanted. He even ordered custom furniture.The boys watch football. And enjoy the amenities of Tony's bar.





	Full-Service Bar

“I do not understand this rule,” Thor complained, frowning in the direction of the screen while pushing his trousers out of the way. Adjusting Tony's drape across the smooth wooden surface of the bar, Thor carefully working the thick anal plug free of Tony’s ass, leaving him slick and gaping. “The team of Falcons has committed a violation most foul and the clock has been stopped. And yet they remove ten seconds from the clock?” He gripped Tony’s hips and thrust inside, eyes barely flickering away from the game.

“It’s a whole thing, Thor,” Clint assured, drinking his beer at the other end of the bar. The dark wooden bar had been some special order shit and only came up to Clint’s hips. He had to keep remembering to lean down a little when he set his drink down. A little silly. On the other hand, the bar was perfect because it meant that both of Tony's fuckholes were at a perfect level for them to thrust into. “Steve, you want a drink?”

Steve looked like he was resisting the urge to rip the ring gag right off of Tony’s mouth, but Tony had made it damn clear that this was exactly what he wanted, so the blond was hanging around, not interfering. He hadn’t promised to _participate_ , but he also wouldn’t spoil Tony’s fun. “I don’t get-“

“-drunk. Yes, we are aware, good Captain,” Thor agreed while he casually thrust into Tony’s ass with absent-minded strength, each movement slapping their bodies together. “Nor am I likely to grow inebriated from such weak Midgardian libations-“ There were noises of protest from around the o-ring, but they all ignored it: Tony didn’t actually want to stop, he just didn’t know how to shut up. “-but it is both traditional and pleasant to partake.” Clint saw Thor pause, balls-deep in Stark’s ass, bend down to reach for the whiskey, pour himself a tall glass of it, return the bottle, and then get right back to fucking him. Clint fucking loved Thor.

Steve was drifting closer, clearly trying not to ruin the scene by looking directly at Tony too much. The _point_ was treating him like a piece of furniture. “Maybe a beer...”

Clint, tired of waiting, unzipped his jeans, shoved them down just far enough, pulled out his half-hard cock, and fed it through the ring of Tony’s gag. It was warm in Tony's mouth and wet from saliva. Clint could practically hear it dripping down Tony's face. This had to be one of the dirtiest things Clint had ever done and it was going straight to his balls. Once Clint sank his cock in a little deeper, it sat pleasantly on Tony’s trembling tongue. The gag prevented Tony from closing his mouth. The scene prevented Tony from participating even the little he could. Instead, he just warmed Clint’s cock while the football game played on the wall. Clint smiled lazily at Steve. “IPA, lager, or porter?”

Steve drew up alongside Thor to look through the beer choices, pulled out a bottle, and popped it open with his fingers. Show off. Then again, Thor was starting to make the whole bar tremble with how hard he was fucking Stark, so it wasn’t like Steve as the _only_ show-off here. Steve said something about beer that was just filling dead air and Clint nodded, responding on autopilot. They were all trying to pretend they weren’t watching Thor fucking Tony wide and coming in Tony’s ass. There was a beat and then Tony was moaning slightly as Thor pulled out. The god replaced the plug, picked up a marker from a tip jar on the bar, and made a tally mark on Tony’s ass. Then he picked up his whiskey and wandered back toward the television. “Surely _that_ was foul!” He shouted at the television, taking his pants off and reaching for the scented wipes to clean himself up. Clint liked the cucumber wipes, but Thor preferred rose-scented. No one wanted to disappoint Thor.

Clint could feel himself filling out in Tony’s mouth, growing while Tony’s mouth watered around the intruder. “Tackler can straight-arm tacklers in the face.” Clint explained to Thor and pushed in deeper, amused when he heard Tony gag a little on his cock... He and Tony had worked through most of their shit. Despite being a rich brat that had made his money off his daddy and the backs of the military, Clint also liked Stark. The guy could be generous and funny and fucked like a mink. And, anyway, he was Clint’s _teammate_ , which counted for more than any of that. But Clint still got a kick out of hearing the rich asshole choke on a cock.

“But when the Panthers hit someone in the face…” Thor protested. Clint knew the guy was just playing _I don’t understand you strange Midgardian ways_ for fun today, but he wasn’t wrong that the rules were confusing. 

“That was the lineman,” he explained, rolling his hips, working his cock in good and deep, grinding against Tony’s face. “And he grabbed the facemask, Thor. _That_ is a big no-no.”

Steve laughed, finally lightening up a little. “Is that the official term? NFL Regulation No-No?” Clint could see Steve staring as he fucked Tony’s face, still struggling. The kid wasn’t a virgin before his big sleep, but he knew jack-all about kink. No, Steve had known about spanking. And _feathers_. But that was about it. Objectifying a friend and teammate and suffocating him on your cock was well outside his comfort zone.

The light in the ceiling turned a little yellow and Clint immediately pulled his hips back so Tony could suck in a breath. The light went back to white. Clint could see Steve visibly relaxing at the reassurance that Tony remained in control. Cheerfully, Clint reached for the marker and made a tally mark on Tony’s forehead before pulling himself out of Tony’s mouth and stroking himself. “Steve, Steve, Steve, you are thinking far too hard about this,” he chastised before coming onto Tony’s face. He aimed to get Stark right between the eyes, and Clint’s aim never failed. “Football day is about cheering for a bunch of guys we’ve never met for playing a game we don’t understand the point of. And drinking.”

Steve smiled a little uneasily. “You’re saying I should relax.”

“Exactly!” Clint grinned, seeing what was coming. Sure enough, Steve hadn’t been able to resist the lure of his lover’s ass for long. Steve took one long drink, adjusted Tony’s hips. It made the come-spattered billionaire stand up a little higher on the steel bar at the base. Steve slowly pulled the plug out. Even better, he managed to keep his eyes on the screen where the football continued to play. Clint tucked himself back in and hoped it wouldn’t be long before he could go in for another round himself. 

There was a roar from the screen as the Panthers made a touchdown which was immediately disputed and Clint got distracted by the game until he heard Tony grunting quietly, unable to entirely help himself as Steve rode him hard. Clint glanced at the athletic cup that held Tony’s cock and balls, protecting them from getting smashed too hard into the hardwood of the bar by accident and, hopefully, getting full of Tony’s spunk. Clint had never _seen_ Tony get off just on being fucked, but he bet it could happen. Stark always acted like Rogers’ horse cock was made of distilled magic.

“Clint Barton, have I ever showed you the first drink I tried on Midgard?” Thor asked. Clint smiled when he saw that Thor was getting undressed even as he said it, stripping entirely out of his clothes with ease.

“I can’t say you have, Thor.” Clint moved out of the way while Thor strolled around the bar, getting a large beer stein and a shot glass. Appalled, he asked, “Your introduction to human drinks was _boilermakers_?”

“Indeed!” Thor seemed pleased, like a man in a pleasant memory. “It was a good evening with a good friend. We made his ancestors proud by engaging in this practice.” He shoved his cock- already hard because Thor had practically no goddamn refraction period- right into Tony’s mouth through the o-ring. And not a moment of hesitation before he started fucking Tony’s face in earnest, pounding in deep and pulling out most of the way each time. Tony choked and groaned trapped between those two cocks. While they’d planned this, Tony assured them all he could remain quiet as a piece of furniture too. Clint tried not to laugh. 

He wandered off to the couch to drink his beer and watch the game, but he turned down he volume on the television and turned up his hearing aid, the better to hear his teammates take Stark apart with their rather godly dicks.

A few minutes later, Steve and Thor wandered back to the couch as well, carrying their drinks and, in Thor’s case, Tony. Tony looked incredibly unwieldy draped over the big man's shoulder with his hands bound in fuzzy handcuffs and his ankles in a spreader, but Thor was the kind of ridiculously strong where no one was worried that he’d drop Tony or even that disgusting boilermaker. Thor handed Steve his drink, set Tony down on the floor, and took a seat on the couch. “How much time remains of this game?”

They chatted about quarters and quarterback spikes and Clint wondered how many more tallies they could fit on Stark before the game ended or Tony called mercy.

Sure enough, on the next commercial break, Steve was up and pounding Stark’s ass again. Maybe it was the serum, or maybe they just bred them horny in the good-old days, but Steve was a goddamn fuck machine. Clint supposed that he and Thor had probably stretched Stark out by now. Next time they gangbanged the guy, Clint better get in fast if he wanted Tony while his ass was tight. That was fine; he wouldn’t mind one bit coming on Tony’s face a couple more times, or he could always shove a few fingers in next to his cock if Tony’s mouth was too busy. Clint tried to pay attention to the commercials, but his eyes were consistently drawn to that fine ass moving as the super-soldier thrust and rocked.

By the time the commercial break was over, Steve had come and plugged the billionaire back up, then wandered off to get the sharpie. Thor smiled at Clint and murmured, “This pleases you, my friend?” Pleased him? Tony had designed a gangbang as closely to Clint's request as humanly possible. _Pleased_ hardly covered it. Clint clinked his bottle to Thor’s stein and Thor drained his drink, then swiped at his mouth. “I will endeavor to continue to please.” Getting to his feet, Thor handed off the stein to Steve. “Will you do me the favor, friend Steven, of filling this while I take my pleasure?”

As soon as Steve wandered off, Thor flipped Tony around like he weighed nothing. With Tony on his back, Thor soon straddling his face on his knees so he could continue to watch the game while fucking Tony’s mouth. All Clint could see was Thor’s ass, Tony’s tally-marked forehead, and the guy’s glazed eyes. Tony was clearly slipping deep into subspace. This scene had been, theoretically, for Clint’s sake, but clearly he wasn’t the only one who got their bells chimed here.

Clint carefully removed the gag after that. It had been fun fucking him through the ring, but they didn't want to hurt him and Tony was so out of it by now that it barely mattered. Clint slipped two fingers into Tony's mouth and Tony barely twitched. Clint smiled and asked Thor to bring _this_ back to the bar. While the Falcons slammed through the Panthers' defensive line, Clint settled into Tony's well-worked ass, fucking him casually. Not so tight now. Clint's cock was as deep as it would go, and he just stopped thrusting, letting Tony's body keep him warm and hard. Steve came over to chat about end-runs. Thor stuffed himself back into Tony's mouth while he talked about some Asgardian sport that sounded like football if football was played by immortals who didn't need to worry about broken bones and traumatic brain injuries. Or maybe rugby. Clint continued just sheathing himself in Tony's ass and Tony started to twitch against and around him. 

Clint slid a finger in along his cock and heard Tony whimper a little around Thor's cock, his body still relaxed and passive. "Steve, you want to get in here with me?" he offered, sliding another finger in just to feel Tony's stretch around it. 

"No, thanks," Steve said, barely even looking anymore. "I need another beer." Probably just as well Steve wasn't feeling that ambitious, because Tony was wrecked. (Anyway, Clint wasn't sure if double-stuffing would count for one tally mark or two.) Clint managed to get a third finger in beside his cock while Steve drank his beer, and even a forth. Tony was, indeed, _wrecked_ , and the lights were unchanged. Aroused, but also concerned now, Clint pulled the fingers back out, stroked himself off, and came on Tony's come-smeared ass with a happy little sigh. He didn't bother going back to the couch this time, not while Thor was fucking Tony's mouth hard enough to rock his body and Steve was absently jerking himself off one-handed while drinking his beer. Few more tally marks.

Regretfully, Clint looked at the port on the wall he thought of as Jarvis and said, "Mute the game." This had been fun, but Clint was pulling the plug. He wasn't sure Tony if had the self-preservation instincts left to stop them if they really _did_ fuck him up. Hell, Clint had practically been fisting the guy and Tony had barely whimpered in protest. 

When Clint clapped his hands three times, everyone stilled. Tony's head didn't come up, but Steve and Thor's gazes were instantly sharp. Clint shook his head. "It was good," he promised the quiet men. "It was... amazing." Everything he'd fantasized about and more. He rubbed the back of Tony's sweaty shoulders. "But someone is pretty far under." He could see his lovers really taking Tony in: the glazed eyes, the insane number of tally marks covering Tony’s ass and face, the way that they were so smudged by come and sweat that he was a mess of black smears. 

"Friend Tony," Thor said, touching Tony's side. "Perhaps it would be best if we released you. A moment only, and I will free your arms and legs." Tony made a little _Um-hmm_ noise. They moved around him efficiently, taking off the cuffs and spreader while Steve did his best to clean up Tony's beard with the facial wipes that smelled like cucumbers. Tony was still almost alarmingly passive. Not normal for him at all. Thor scooped Tony up and carried him to the couch. It would probably leave a bit of a mess, but Clint didn't give a shit about Tony's cleaning bill right now. 

"You did really good, man," Clint told Tony, taking his hand and chafing it. "But the scene is done. You alright there?" Steve came back and they pressed a bottle of cold water into Tony's other hand.

Tony looked up, his eyes focusing on Steve. Clint breathed out. _Of course._ "Ow," Tony said very distinctly in a voice gone gravely. After the number of times they'd shoved a cock down his throat, no wonder. But then Tony turned to look at Clint. His expression lacked... something, but there was definitely personality behind his eyes again. Annoying personality. "Why did you stop?" Tony demanded. Clint's gaze went, involuntarily, to the athletic cup. They should take care of that. Letting everyone _except_ for Tony come had been part of the game, but it wasn't buddies now that they were done.

Clint settled a hand on Tony's shoulder and planted a kiss on the corner of his mouth. "There's subspace and then there's _deep_ subspace. You like it that deep? You were _gone_."

Tony looked weirdly vulnerable for a moment, but then he breathed in and his expression flattened out, all smirk and smarm. "I can take anything you throw at me, Barton."

Steve crouched in front of Tony and reached up to run fingers through the mussed dark hair. Tony squirmed a little at the gesture, so much better at sex than intimacy, even now. "We can talk about it more later. Right now, what would you like?"

Catching Steve's hand, Tony nipped at the base of the thumb. "I want someone to suck me off. Then I want to hear, in depth, how you enjoyed my full-service bar." He clearly preened as the three of them vied over who would suck him off. Vain bastard. Clint thought Tony had never looked better.

**Author's Note:**

> In case you didn't catch it, yes, Tony can signal when he wants slow or stop. I figure after that massive shitshow where his mentor almost murdered him in his own house, Tony has made it very clear to Jarvis what appropriate steps are if _sir_ is threatened.
> 
> By the way, [this](https://www.birchlane.com/furniture/pdp/gasper-bar-with-wine-storage-dbhc1468.html) is the bar before Tony had it shortened.


End file.
